Slipping
by Bisexual-Dragons
Summary: At first, it was just a glance...One shot. Cipherpines, sort of. Rated T for angst and character death.


At first, it was just a glance. A mere second would pass in which he would get a glimpse of a golden cane, caught in the grip of a familiar shape. He would ignore it, and continue on. Nothing weird about anything.

The sightings came more often. What was usually a flash of gold became lingering stares, the creatures single eye full of amusement and curiosity. Still, he pressed on; he had much more important things to tend to, mysteries to solve, things to find. But the creature - no, demon, he told himself - was persistent. It followed him, trailing behind everywhere he went. But, like always, he paid no mind.

As time went on, the demon began speaking to him; and eventually took hold of him, centering the dream around himself and the boy. The demon would ask him questions - how he was doing, how his sister was, etc.

He would always answer back; in the sickly quiet of the dark forest it was nice to have someone to talk to.

Even if it was Bill Cipher.

"Heya, Pine Tree! How's it hanging? Haha!" Said demon, Bill Cipher, called out to the brunette below him, hanging from his feet off a branch. He jumped off of it, but didn't fall; he floated next to the branch.

"Dammit, Bill, go away," Dipper snapped, rummaging through his bookbag, stopping to inspect a rock he pulled out if it.

If the demon could grin, he would. "Aw, but Pine Tree," he cooed. "I don't think you want me to leave. You'll get awfully lonely, don't you think?"

"Being lonely is better than talking to you," he grouched back. "Stop invading my dreams, I haven't had a peaceful sleep in days."

"You're asleep right now."

Dipper threw his backpack over his shoulder with a bit more force than needed. "Not…peacefully! Ugh, shut up! Leave me alone, you talking corn chip!"

"Corn chip," Bill repeated. "Ha. That's a new one." He flew down and rested himself on top of the boy's hat. "Where ya going this time, squirt?"

"I don't know yet. I'm going to wake up soon anyway." Technically it was Bills fault he lucid dreamed every night; the dream demon carried a sort of self-aware vibe around him - that, and he was a dream demon. He could do stuff like that. Demon powers. You get it.

As he sat atop Dippers head, he pondered. What pulled him to this boy? What made him keep coming back? What made him and his crazy twin sister so different?

Bill chuckled. In the vast amounts of knowledge kept inside of his blackened soul, he would have a few extra mysteries of his own to solve.

If only he knew where to start.

"You okay, bro-bro?"

The quiet, concerned voice cut through the darkness of the bedroom. Dipper sighed, and rubbed his face with his sweaty palms.

"Yeah, I'm okay, Mabel," he assured her softly. Waddles the pig snorted in his sleep.

"Was it Bill again?"

"…yeah."

"Oh, Dipper." Her bed creaked and Dipper felt his sheets shuffle. His sisters loving arms wrapped around his neck, her head resting on his shoulder. "When will that nasty triangle leave you alone?"

"Never, probably," Dipper scoffed, returning the hug. "But it's not so bad. Really, it's not. He just comes into my dreams and bugs me, that's all."

"He's manipulating you, Dipper," she said worriedly. "He's using your dreams to harvest."

The teen sighed. "I know."

It was true, the demon was using his dreams to feed. He had the same one every night - he was alone, walking down a dark forest trail. He could never see too far ahead of him, so he walked. The forest was always completely silent, and barren of wildlife. And then Bill would appear, his golden colors sharply contrasting with the black trees. He would talk, tease, and drain Dipper until he couldn't walk anymore, too spent to move.

And then he would wake up in a cold sweat, terror gripping his heart.

"But such is the way of a monster."

"Dramatic."

"I know."

"Do you hate me, Pine Tree?"

The stale Dorito popped the question the next night, sitting once again atop Dippers hat.

"Well, you tried to destroy my uncles mind, stole and mutilated my body, and CONTINUE to harvest my dreams, but hey, why would I hate you?"

Bill snorted at the sarcasm. "So you do, then." He floated off of his hat.

"Duh."

Bill giggled. "You sure are one of a kind, Pine Tree."

"What does that mean?" The boy asked, whipping around to face him. The triangle looked to be grinning. He lifted a thin arm and pointed behind Dipper.

"There's a deer behind you."

"How is a deer one of a- aaaaah!"he ended his sentence in a (pretty girly) scream. Behind him was a gargantuan deer-like monster with pure black fur that looked like tar and teeth that…shouldn't belong to a deer. It's red dot eyes stared back at him emotionlessly. The twelve-year old scrambled back from the demonic animal in fear, eyeing its teeth.

"I-I thought nothing was in these woods!" He stammered, shrieking when the creature opened its (disturbingly large) jaws open, slowly.

"Jeez, kid, what's a forest without wildlife?"

Realizing Bill would not step in to help him, the boy screamed, and teeth was all he saw before it all went black.

The days, too, became more grueling as time went on. He felt more sluggish, his work ethic declined, he even began dozing off in the middle of everyday activities - one of which being in a bowl of cereal. He still found Froot Loops in his hair.

He was questioned often by Soos and Wendy; but not nearly as much as his sister. Unlike the others, she knew what was happening, but only to a certain extent. The girl was so concerned for her brother, she started writing optimistic songs to get him going.

"Come on Dipper, let's go clean the gift shop, I can't think of a rhyme but Grunkle Stan will probably get angry if we don't-"

"Alright, Mabel, I'm coming," he sighed, yawning. He picked up a broom and DUSTPAN sluggishly. His twin watched with both concern and amusement as he repeatedly walked through the doorway, only to be stopped by the broom which was turned horizontally.

"…here, let me get that," she said, smiling a little bit. He didn't even acknowledge her, his eyes half closed as he wandered, not quite sure where he was going.

"You're killing me," he realized quietly, murmuring into the darkness. The trees gave no sign that he was heard. "You're killing me from the inside out."

Still nothing.

"I can never feel awake anymore. I can hardly tell when I am," he kept speaking to silence. "My friends are concerned, Grunkle Stan is actually worried," he continued.

"And Mabel is terrified."

"As she will continue to be, Pine Tree," a light, chipper voice but out of place with the atmosphere resonated around the empty space. Dipper ignored its existence. A flash of even more out of place colors flashed in front of him, and a certain triangle he really didn't wish to see appeared in his sight.

"It's only going to get worse from here, I'm afraid," he continued with mock sympathy. Dipper choked back tears.

"So that's it?" He questioned, still not looking to the monster before him. "You're going to sap the energy out of me until my body just shuts down? Gives out?" His voice stayed quiet, but laced with a hint of desperation as he went on.

Bill chuckled. "That's the plan."

"Why are you doing this?" His voice rose slightly.

"Why?" The golden triangle repeated, voice sounding dull. "Why do we do anything? What pushes humans, demons, creatures and animals of all shapes and sizes to do anything? What is the ultimate goal that everything living wants- strives to achieve?"

Dipper remained silent.

"And that's just it, Pine Tree." The demon chuckled, and swung his cane around a few times.

"To stay relevant. To keep living."

Dipper collapsed.

Lying in a hospital bed, Dipper realized, was not near as comfortable as his own back at the Mystery Shack.

But it wasn't like he was getting much out of it anymore anyways, he reasoned in his head. He was sleeping, sure, but it was like, the not-sleep, you know? It was the opposite of resting.

Sleeping was exhausting.

Stirring as he heard footsteps, he cracked an eye open and his blurry vision was greeted by the tear-stained face of his sister.

"Dipper? Dipper!" She said, hopeful. She gripped his shoulder, perhaps a little to tightly, and shook him, hoping to stir him.

Dipper wanted to smile, to tell her he was okay, it was all okay, and that he wanted out of this damn hospital gown ASAP, but his mouth wouldn't move. All he could do was blink at her.  
>It was a wonder he was still breathing.<p>

Mabel's breath hitched, a heartbroken smile gracing her lips. More tears slid down her cheeks.

"You collapsed while walking down the stairs," she said to him softly, rubbing his shoulder in a soothing way. "That mean old demon has really s-snared you," she stammered, her tears dripping onto Dippers pale cheek. "Hasn't he?"

It took all of the brunettes willpower to force a weak nod, but all that came was a twitch of his head. Luckily Mabel, sweet, smart, wonderful Mabel, caught on to his efforts. She stroked his face lovingly and tried to stifle more tears to no avail.

"I know you're trying, bro-bro," she said. She looked to his injuries. "Those stairs cut you up bad. But you should be fine. The doctor s-said you'd be f-fine."

Dipper knew she was trying not to break down. He felt his own tears surface, but didn't stream down his face. Crying was exhausting.

He heard other people enter the room, and recognized their blurry figures - Wendy, Soos, and Grunkle Stan. If any of them said anything, he didn't hear it. He turned his tired head back to Mabel.

He shouldn't have fallen back asleep. He should have stayed awake, and listened to Mabel speak, and be charmed by her sweet voice instead of hearing her desperate shrieks as he slipped into unconsciousness, the darkness slipping over him like a blanket.

He should have stayed awake, and slowly recovered so he could go back home and be happy again with the people he loved more than anything in the world.

He should have listened to Mabel when she said to never trust a demon.

He should have done these things, but he didn't. He fell asleep, and he was in the dreamscape, and Bill was greeting him with a happy tone and round of applause, and he felt as if he were being consumed, every square inch of darkness swirling around him like a vacuum. He felt collective voices, an obnoxious, echoing laughter, another, gruff and loud, and the others, sounding frightened, shrieking with despair.

Despair was the last thing on his mind before everything went black for the last time.

After his nap in his uncomfortable hospital bed, Dipper Pines did not wake back up.


End file.
